


Safe & Sound

by rightonthelimit



Series: Brujay Drabble Collection [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mild Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4250508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rightonthelimit/pseuds/rightonthelimit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's pretty sure that stupid doorpost is the only thing keeping him standing right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe & Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Character study mostly, this will be my first DC fanfiction. I know it's Andrew in the gif but ssh, squint and you'll see where I'm going.

**A/N:** Character study mostly, this will be my first DC fanfiction. I know it's Andrew in the gif but ssh, squint and you'll see where I'm going **.**

**Please do not repost, recreate or translate.**

**Summary:** He's pretty sure that stupid doorpost is the only thing keeping him standing right now.

 **Warnings:** Angst, mild fluff

**Safe & Sound**

He felt so goddamn tired and angry and _vulnerable_ that he couldn't even speak properly without his throat closing up.

Standing in the doorway of the Wayne library, trying to swallow down the utter senseless word vomit that wanted to escape his lips so very dearly, Jason averted his eyes, his mask clattering to the floor from his lax fingers. It was the only sound he permitted himself to make.

He thought that he had been doing better, but well - memories always fucked him up the ass with a crowbar. He didn't even want to begin to think about that questionable wound on his arm, which was currently oozing blood. It was all his own dumb fault.

Panic attack out on the field. How pathetic. How _humiliating_.

'Jason?'

Jason just stood there for a bit longer, pondering, torn between wanting to shoot himself in the face and falling into Bruce's arms. He didn't do either, of course not. He had his pride and he wasn't going to give Bruce the satisfaction of watching him cry.

Not again.

The only thing keeping Jason up right now was the doorway and he leaned more into it, locking his jaw, gritting his teeth. Every time he closed his eyes he saw that grin, felt that metal biting into his skin. Months it had taken for him to build up a name for his own, a name that had once belonged to the very person that had destroyed him. Everyone knew him as fearless vigilante who wasn't afraid to pop a few caps into whomever posed a threat.

He did everything his teacher could not yet here he was for guidance, for _something_ , because Wayne manor still vaguely smelt like home. If he allowed himself to then he could bring himself back to the night where he was sick and fell asleep with his head resting on Bruce's shoulder with the sweet smell of popcorn lingering in the air. Bruce had abandoned his Batman duties for the night to keep Jason company.

Knowing the man and how important his city was to him, it was the sole fact that Bruce had stayed home for someone as insignificant as Jason that made it so special.

It was Jason's favorite memory of Bruce.

Alfred had told him where to find Bruce earlier, had been nothing but polite and helpful but Jason thought he could read that underlying look in his eyes just fine. It was that same look he could find in the eyes of each member of the Bat family.

_You don't belong here anymore, Jason._

Feeling the familiar sting in his nose, the burning in his eyes, Jason thought to himself how terrible it had been of his bootclad feet to bring him here. Jason was a fucking bad ass, had molded himself into one, would forever remain one. He owned the streets and the streets would always be his home.

He didn't belong here and he damn well knew it.

His body had betrayed him by carrying him here.

Feeling a hand land on his shoulder, his eyes instantly snapped up, his hands moving to his guns.

It's ridiculous. It's been so long since he had _died_ , he was stronger than this, so tired of the sleepless nights and tears and _rage_ that kept simmering low and deep in his chest. Everything was still so broken inside of him, so many walls he had built up.

All of those walls crumbled when Jason looked into those blue, _blue_ eyes and when Bruce suddenly held him, Jason let him.

His arms fell uselessly by his sides and he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to let the tears fall, forcing himself to _man the fuck up_.

'You're tired,' Bruce murmured softly into his hair and Jason couldn't help the wry smile on his face. They both knew it was more than that but Bruce was offering him an escape, an excuse. By now he knew that if he would confront Jason with his vulnerability ( _Are you okay, Jason? Did you have dreams again? If you want to cry then let it all out, just let it go...)_ Jason would be out the door in a blink of an eye. 'You can stay in your old bedroom if you want. It's still the same.'

The look they shared when they parted was meaningful and Jason hated the sweetness in Bruce's motions when he brushed Jason's messy hair from his face with a soft smile. It was a smile that said so many things if only Jason would read into them.

But he didn't. Because he still was unsure of what was happening between them, and he was still terrified by it all. Life didn't matter much after you die and come back. It's the emotions that kill Jason over and over again.

'I don't want to sleep alone,' Jason mumbled haltingly, his skin prickling with embarrassment, hating himself for it. If he wanted something then he'd make damn sure he'd take it. Bruce would just have to make peace with that.

Yet he couldn't help the pleading way he looked when he looked Bruce in the eye.

Bruce's arms were around him again in a crushing hug and Jason had no idea what he had done to deserve it but this time he fully returned it and clung unto the bigger male like he was his last lifeline.

How he had hated Bruce for not avenging him, and even to this day it was still inside of him, the resentment and bitterness, like a devil on his shoulder whispering terrible things into his ear in the death of the night.

_He didn't kill the Joker because you're nothing to him. Because you're just a street rat and he replaced you. He doesn't care. He never did and never will._

Jason shook his head to himself and when Bruce kissed the nape of his neck his breath hitched, his hands twisting in the expensive fabric of Bruce's jacket.

'I won't let you be alone ever again,' Bruce mumbled into his hair and Jason just pressed harder into him. He had walked into this place like a lost stray, every bit of affection was oxygen to him.

He had been plunged into the dark watery abyss that were his memories long enough and he inhaled Bruce greedily not because he wanted to but because he _needed_ to. Jason didn't know how to simply be, if he didn't have this man to cling onto.

Finally feeling himself cry he just nodded and knew how much Bruce meant it. He tried to ignore the devil, who whispered that he merely projected his grief on Bruce and leeched off him until the older male grew sick of him.


End file.
